by Anne R. Tan
“Great-grandma did a good job taking care of them, so don’t beat yourself up.” Raina patted her grandma’s hand. “I know just the thing to cheer you up. After we finish here, we should take a look-see at Martin’s townhouse. We might as well put your disguise to use.” Today her grandma had on gray camo.
Po Po attempted to smile, but it didn't erase the forlorn expression in her eyes.
She knew how her grandma felt. This fiasco with this other family was the reason she’d stopped believing in ever after. Fairy tales existed for other people. “We made good progress today.” She pulled the notebook she’d snagged from her sister out of her purse. “Let me update my suspect list and what we learned so far.”
“I can’t believe you’re still using paper. So old fashioned.” Po Po pulled a tablet from her backpack. “We can put the list online and share it to our phones.”
“We can do it your way, but I still like paper better. And what about security? We wouldn’t want to accidentally post this on Facebook.”
“Oh, come on. There’s no such thing as accidental posting.” Po Po shook her head. “Some people are just attention hogs.”
Raina pretended to wipe her mouth with a napkin to hide her smile. And the kettle just called the stove black…
Her grandma’s fingers flew across the keyboard on the glass screen, typing up the notes from the notepad. Raina always hated typing on a tablet.
“Anything you want to add?” Po Po asked.
“Hudson didn’t notice any signs of a break-in, so the killer had to be someone Martin knew,” Raina said.
“Unless there’s broken glass, I doubt if either Mrs. Keane or Hudson is observant enough.”
“Don’t forget Gigi. The dog would have alerted Mrs. Keane, and she seems like the type to call the police if a kid skateboarded on the sidewalk.”
Raina glanced at the digital display on her phone. “Is it too late to stop by Mrs. Keane’s townhouse?”
“It’s been two days. Her fifteen minutes on the Internet is done. I’m sure she’s dying for more attention by now.” Po Po threw down her napkin. “Let’s bounce.”
11
A Chat with Napoleon
As they made their way up the stoop, Gigi yipped as if she knew Raina was nearby. She pushed the buzzer for the front door, hoping the visit would be a short one. Mrs. Keane probably wouldn’t be able to add more to what Hudson had already told her, but she had to check every box even though she was only pretending to be a PI.
Mrs. Keane's face appeared at the bay window and disappeared. The scratching on the other side grew more frantic and then stopped.
Raina rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her gaze traveled around the neat landing area on top of the staircase. The fence-enclosed front yard raised bed planter held crushed leafy plants she couldn’t identify. She winced at the damages from her ninja move last night.
Po Po leaned on the pimp cane as if she needed the support. Raina had a feeling her grandma would play the harmless old lady in this interview.
The front door clicked open and Mrs. Keane gestured for them to come inside. Gigi was nowhere in sight, but a faint yipping came from the rear of the townhouse.
In the living room, Raina sat on the edge of the oversized sofa. The deep seat made it impossible for her to touch the backrest without resorting to hopping on the furniture. With her feet dangling above the floor, she felt like a child about to have a serious conversation with a grown-up. Her grandma jumped onto the sofa and got into the lotus position with her cane across her knees.
Mrs. Keane sat on a normal-sized armchair, calmly watching the two of them get comfortable. Without an audience, Mrs. Keane seemed almost serene even though her perm was tight as ever. Her head must ache from the strain.
The room was dim, and the single lamp lent a stillness to the room as if they were in a sleepover ready to share secrets.
“It looks like I’m still on Gigi’s naughty list, huh?” Raina asked.
The faint yipping stopped for a few seconds and started up again.
“Are you wearing any kind of perfume? She’s friendly with everyone else,” Mrs. Keane said with pretend interest.
Raina shook her head to the perfume question. “Anyways, we want to see how you are holding up? Hudson said the two of you found Uncle Martin’s body. It must be a shock.”
Mrs. Keane pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes, which were dry as a desert. “He could have been the love of my life, but he’s gone before we even started.”
Raina nodded gravely. Yeah, sure. “It must be tough. How long have you been neighbors?“
“Thirty years.”
“Then you must know Uncle Martin well. Did he seem different to you in the last few months? Did his routine change?”
“Not that I noticed. I didn’t monitor when he came in and out.”
Raina bet her last dollar Mrs. Keane was the type to glue her face to the bay window, watching the comings and goings on the street.
“Yeah, right,” Po Po mumbled.
“How about other people? Have you noticed more visitors? Or have there been any changes, like someone new visiting?” Raina asked, ignoring Po Po’s comment.
“Well, there’s Hudson Rice. He came by regularly for the last year or so. Before that, it was his sister, Brandi, but she had a falling out with Martin. She was real friendly and appeared to treat Martin as if he were her dad. She drove him to run his errands every Sunday morning and visited with take-out food at least once a week after work. She did that for years.”
“Do you know why she stopped coming by?” Po Po asked.
“I think she fell for the wrong guy and got into drugs. Martin begged her to go to rehab, said he would pay for everything, but…” Mrs. Keane shrugged. “It was too bad. She was a good girl.”
“Did Martin seem to regret the fallout?” Raina asked.
“I don’t know. We used to have dinner together once a week, but he got too busy when Hudson re-appeared, passing on the family business. And then there was the diagnosis on his liver.”
“Didn’t he always have cirrhosis?” Po Po asked.
Mrs. Keane narrowed her eyes. She clearly didn’t like losing her position as the fount of knowledge on Martin Eng. “Yes, his liver got worse in the last couple of years. More gallstones and problems with bruising. It’s probably why he was in such a rush to hand over the reins to his nephew.”
“Isn’t it odd Martin’s controlled medical condition got worse when his nephew came back into his life?” Raina didn’t like to think the worst of her mother’s new boyfriend, but the question had to be asked.
Mrs. Keane stared off into space for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve seen the two of them at the health clinic a few times. Hudson was taking care of his uncle just like his sister did. Martin was lucky to have the two. I have a son, but you don’t see him coming around to visit. No grandchild for me either. No woman is stupid enough to marry him. For a while, I was hoping Brandi would consent to a blind date with him.”
If Brandi had hooked up with Mrs. Keane’s son, would she have avoided her current boyfriend? Everything in life had to do with timing. One second too early could be one second too late.
“Anyone else visited? How about a man with a scar on his face or nunchucks?” Po Po asked, breaking into Raina’s thoughts.
Mrs. Keane gaped at her grandma and shook her head. “Hudson, his girlfriend, the two of you…”
“Any late night visitors?” Raina asked.
“No…”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, there was a Chinese woman. She left a little after eleven.”
Po Po leaned forward. “A hot young girlfriend?”
“I don’t know. I only saw her back. She drove off in a Mini Cooper,” Mrs. Keane said.
“Did Gigi bark?” Po Po asked.
“I don’t remember,” Mrs. Keane said.
“So could this person be someone who has visited
Martin before?” Raina asked.
Mrs. Keane shrugged. “Gigi has real good hearing, and she can smell things from a mile away. She always barks when you’re around. It has to be your perfume.”
Raina held out her arm. “I’m not wearing any perfume. Do you want to take a sniff?”
Mrs. Keane sniffed her hand. “Can’t smell a thing. Maybe that’s the problem. You’re like a blank slate to a sensitive nose.”
Raina’s nose itched, and she had to twist away to keep from sneezing on Mrs. Keane’s hair.
“Officer Smith called right before you got here. He’s coming over to ask me follow-up questions.” Mrs. Keane’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “This is the most excitement I’ve had in months.”
Raina shared a look with her grandma. She didn’t want to be around when Smith showed up. “We should get going.”
The doorbell rang.
Raina bit her lower lip to keep from cursing and ended up sneezing instead. “It’s time for us to get out of your way.”
They followed Mrs. Keane to the door. Mrs. Keane opened the front door to reveal Smith with his hand poised over the doorbell. “Officer Smith, did you fly over here? I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour.”
“Detective Smith, ma'am.” He blocked the entire landing. They would have to ram into him to leave. “Miss Sun, I'm glad you're here. I have a few questions for you.”
“Officer, I have to leave for my knitting club. I can’t wait until you're done with Raina,” Mrs. Keane said, miffed at losing the limelight.
Bang!
Raina jumped at the noise from the back of the house. Po Po swung around with her cane raised across her body. Smith swept past the women and into the house, pulling out his gun. Gigi burst into the living room and ran straight for Smith’s crotch.
Mrs. Keane screamed, “No! Gigi!”
Raina covered her face.
“Sit!” Smith commanded, his voice booming out.
The Boston terrier tried to stop—her rear end dropped and front paws slid on the hardwood floors. The momentum carried her little body forward, and she barreled into Smith. Gigi lifted her head and licked his hand; then she yipped at Raina.
While Smith untangled himself from Gigi’s greeting, Raina hustled her grandma out of the townhouse. Out the stoop and down the steps.
“Miss Sun, one moment please,” Smith called out from behind her.
Raina wanted to scream in frustration. She felt like a child who just had her lollipop taken away after the first lick. She whirled around, hoping she didn't look guilty. “Yes, Detective? I don't have time to talk right now. I'm running late for an appointment.” She smiled at how easily the lie came to her. Practice made perfect.
Smith strutted down the stairs. The porch light lit him up like he was an actor descending upon the masses. A woman slowed her steps on the sidewalk to gawk. He didn't even notice. Raina was more impressed he could strut in the semi-darkness without falling.
Smith tossed his head and a stray lock fell across his face. “Hi, what are you doing tonight?” He ignored her grandma, who stepped away from them with a snicker.
Raina suppressed her grimace. She didn’t fail to notice he remained on the last step of the stairs so he could tower over her. Napoleon complex was alive and thriving here. “I have a date.”
He didn't even blink. “Tomorrow night?”
“What do you want?”
“I made a few calls to Gold Springs. You're some kind of amateur. I thought we could trade war stories over dinner.”
Raina laughed, snorting in an unladylike manner. “Please don't tell me you want to team up or something.”
“What if I do?”
“Seriously?” She straightened as the amusement left her. This could be the opportunity she had been waiting for. “Okay, I'll bite. I want my grandfather's journal back. I saw you picked it up when we chased the guy with the white hoodie on the day Uncle Martin died.” It was worth throwing the theory on the wall to see if it stuck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugged as if what she had to say didn't matter. “This would be a great networking opportunity for you to talk to a real cop about investigating a homicide. You could tell me what you found out so far and I can give you my take on things. What do you say?”
She gave him a regretful smile as if she were dying to share her suspicions. “Maybe some other time.” He must’ve thought she was an idiot. What cop would discuss an active case with a civilian who was linked to the victim?
He gave her a business card. “Here's my cell phone number if you change your mind.”
As they walked back to her car, Raina felt his eyes on her the entire time. He wanted something from her all right, but networking wasn’t one of them. Now if she could figure out what this was, then maybe she could use it as leverage to get her grandfather's journal back from the SFPD.
12
Twisted Underwear
The next morning, the black Fiat was back on their street. Raina stepped away from the curtains when the driver got out. Scar Face! He leaned against the car and lit a cigarette.
Heart pounding, she dashed into the kitchen. “We need to leave. Scar Face is coming up to the house.”
Po Po hustled to the living room but returned within seconds with disappointment written on her face. “There’s no one outside.”
Raina sagged against the kitchen island in relief. Where did he go? “Po Po, please drive around the block in Mom’s car. I’ll meet you in front of Mr. Clark’s house.” Better safe than sorry. The neighbor behind the Victorian would just have to deal.
Five minutes later, they were on their way to have a chat with Brandi. The address they got from Mom was located in West Oakland, a seedy part of town dominated by run-down Victorians and new condos with graffiti. Despite the chill, two scruffy-looking teenage boys played ball on a basketball court next to a sad excuse of a park—a swing set with a missing seat, sand filled with cigarette butts and bottle caps, and illegal dumping.
Raina pulled up next to the curb. The minivan in front of them bore the remains of a late night bonfire—the charred marshmallow sticks still stuck to ashes on the hood. “Let’s make this fast. Could you take that hat off? We shouldn’t draw more attention to ourselves.”
Po Po hopped out of the vehicle, pulling the purple velvet Fedora hat lower on her head. “It’s cold today.” Her breaths came out in pale puffs in front of her. “Let’s get this show on the road.” As she strode toward the apartment building, she twirled her pimp cane, the gold horse statue glittering in the morning sun. If Raina squinted, her grandma fit right in with the neighborhood.
Through the opening, they strolled into a concrete courtyard that held two discarded sofas and several boxes. Three stories rose around them with laundry hung like Christmas ornaments on the railings above. The main windows for the apartments faced the courtyard, intensifying the spotlight effect. An overweight black woman sprawled on a sofa, watching them.
“What ya’ll lookin’ for?” slurred the woman. The plastic six-pack holder was missing four cans on the box next to her.
“How are you doing?” Po Po asked.
“The day’s still young and I'm trying to stay out of trouble.”
“What’s the fun in that? Trying to find me some.”
“Word.”
“We don't want any trouble,” Raina cut in. “We’re here to visit Brandi Rice.”
The woman gave her grandma a look. “Why's her underwear in a bunch?”
Raina flushed at the implication. She wasn't a party pooper.
“She doesn’t wear the stuff I buy her from Victoria's Secret.” Po Po held a hand against her mouth and lowered her voice. “You never know when a lacy thong might come in handy.”
“Po Po!” It was one thing for her grandma to bemoan Raina’s underwear choices when they were alone, but to share it with the world? She was horrified.
The woman chuckled. “Kids, they don't listen. Brandi’
s up there.” She turned and pointed to the corner unit on the second floor behind her. “You’re in luck. Her boyfriend got hauled off to jail two days ago. You wouldn’t want to meet him. Even I got tired of hearin’ him slap her around, and this with my daddy taking a belt on my mom when we were growing up. He was a mean drunk, you know. Then he got killed by the city bus.”
“I’m sorry,” Raina said automatically, her mind racing. Two nights ago was when Martin died in his townhouse.
“Nah. It was the best thing that happened to our family. Mom moved our family East to her folks with the settlement money.”
“How do you know he hasn’t been back since?” Po Po asked.
“All of us would have heard him. He’s always doped up on somethin’. And screaming about the devil. You would have thought he’s a Baptist.”
“What time did the police come by?” Raina asked.
“Late. After one, I think. I had to yell at my kids the next mornin’ to get up for school. Go on with you,” the woman said. “I need my ‘me time’ before the kids get home.”
While it would be a stretch, Brandi could still make it to Martin’s townhouse after the police left. As they passed by the first apartment unit, a whiff of urine and burnt bacon greeted them. Raina gagged, and she breathed through her mouth on the way up.
Po Po sucked in the scent like a greedy shop vac, even pausing to puzzle out sour grease. “I want to replicate this in my ultimate stink bomb experiment.”
“Keep up or I’m leaving you behind,” Raina called over her shoulder. “If you duplicate this smell while I’m around, I’m getting a new sidekick.”
“You can’t fire me. I’m like your Q. Without my cool toys, you couldn’t do your James Bond thing.”
“I don’t want to be James Bond. I don’t have half the muscle to shoot ‘em up.”
“You’re skinny little behind will do. Just remember it’s all about the brains, not the brawn in this line of work. You handled yourself pretty well in the last few murders.”
